(The elder horses surround the foal)

My Painted Horses

In my childhood I lived in a small village, where my grandfather bred good and beautiful horses.
I was always around them.

An old grey mare was the base of the horse-family, and the centre of my admiration. I learned a lot
from her... She helped me to observe the different signs of their behaviour, and to attune myself to
the other animals around.

The old grandparents were wise and loving persons, who deeply understood the world around us.
My grandfather always had the time to tell me tales about wild horses, and with his heavy hands he
sketched the horses we imagined.
As I grew old, I began to paint everything: still life, portrait, landscape, but my favourites are
horses. All my paintings are about the love of nature.

From the beginning my favourites are grey horses. And seeing the world around us, and the people,
not interested in our environment, my horses' eyes are often sad.

Some years ago there was a photo on the net, about a lonely grey horse, and I remembered our old
mare, so I painted it after the photo. (Perhaps the photographer artist does n't mind.)

(The lonely grey horse)

I think, that the children would become more sensitive adults if they were allowed to be in closer
connection with animals. They would learn to take care of the pets, and later they would take care
of their old parents too.
And if we learn the basic rules of the nature, we will not cause so enormous damages, as we do
nowadays.

When the spring began, we was glad waiting for the little foals. They usually are born in March,
and April, and it is the most beautiful thing to play together with a colt or filly in the vivid green
field.

(One day-old foal)

These young „little horses” are always around their mothers, because they need their mother's milk
very often (every thirty minutes).
The mares are very careful, they always are saving foals.

(Safely)

In these old days we often saw the working horses in the fields and the young foals playing around
them.
 (Horses at the feedbox)

The work in the fields lasted from early morning to late evening. But at noon, in the hottest hours
there was a break, not only for the workers, but the animals as well. There were feedboxes in the
fields for the working animals.

The stallions never worked in the fields, because they are usually difficult to manage, so they had
the privilage to loll about in the paddocks, or were ridden by their groom.
 (Grey stallion)

It is very interesting to study the inheritability of the horses' colour. The grey is dominant, and
appears only in an offspring if its father or mother, or both of them, are grey. But the offsprings are
never born as grey, they have other colour.

Contrary to the grey, the chestnut colour can appear from any colour parents. Chestnut is a horse
when the mane and the tail is not black, but usually the same colour as the body.
 (A young chestnut mare)

I interested in the other horses as well. I was fascinated by the elegance of the Arabian horses.
Their hardness, stamina is perhaps unmeasurable. Many of the modern breeds are from these
excellent
horses.

So I present an oil painting of this group. The bay stallion with black mane and tail. But to tell the
truth, a lot of Arabian horse are grey, but this is for to demonstrate a bay one.
 (Bay Arabian stallion)

On the racecourses we can admire the (English) thoroughbred horses. They are nowadays in the
focus. They are bred for speed, to win big races. Their pedigree had been registered for cenruries.
But their origin is the arabian horse.

I should like to mention, that the Hungarian racehorse, named Kincsem was never defeated. She
started and won 54 races in the 1870's years.

In the 1960's years there was also an excellent Hungarian racehorse, Imperiál. He won a great
number of big races, and later he was an excellent stallion with many excellent offsprings.
 (Imperiál, the excellent Hungarian racehorse and champion stallion)

Sometimes I am inclined to compare animals with people. This is a game for me, and very
interesting.

Years ago I was at home, at my parent's flat. And that afternoon there was nothing to do, because
the parents were sleeping, and I did not want to make any noise. I began to look at the old pictures
on the walls.

And there was the old photo: we, the three children were taken in that. I kept looking at it, but
nothing happened.

Some weeks later, I got a canvas and began to paint a picture. There was three little horses,
connecting together, and with the looks our eyes. I framed it, and will never give it to anybody.
 (Three little chestnut horses, with our young - but different – glances).

And a comment in the end: I ask you not to bother about my English. I read a lot, but never speak,
and I am old enough not to learn this beautiful language well, but I do my best.

F. Eri Blanche, 2009. November